The Life of John Kramer
by cgal120
Summary: A short piece that I had writen for my English class in 2009. It's sort of the autobiography of John Kramer a.k.a Jigsaw. Spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen any Saw film. Description may vary because of Saw 7/3D.


_**John Kramer a.k.a Jigsaw**_

Hello, my name is John Kramer. I used to take my life for granted. It was just there. I couldn't do anything but breathe and stay alive. My wife, Jill, was the most important thing in my life; my entire existence revolved around her. Imagine my excitement when she revealed she was pregnant! She was one hundred percent sure of it; it did help having a nurse as a wife! One evening, when I went to pick her up from work, only 2 months from her due date, I found her bleeding on the floor inside the building she worked. She was crying, obviously, pleaded to herself for the baby's life. The baby. Our baby. Gone…

After that night, I became obsessed with revenge. I wanted to teach the murdering scum a lesson.

I think I know what you're thinking: "why does he want revenge on his wife?" I wasn't after my wife. I was after the lowlife who was trying to rob her that night to get his next fix, the unworthy soul she was trying to help before he slammed the door onto her stomach in a desperate attempt to leave.

Being a civil engineer, I started designing "games". I found out that a person was willing to do anything, if there was a price for not doing so. I even created a little friend. He was, and still is, a pale white puppet with black hair, black and red eyes, a little black suit and red bow tie, and red spirals on his cheeks. I named him Billy.

Jill became worried, but I didn't care. I didn't understand how she could let go of her pain so easily.

"'Cherish your life,'" she always told me. 'Cherish your life' was the slogan of the recovery centre that she worked in.

Not too long afterwards, we got a divorce. I was heartbroken. I'd lost my baby, my wife. What else was left for me to lose?

I soon found out…

I'd booked in for a check up with Doctor Lawrence Gordon, a family man with a nice wife and daughter. Neither he nor his wife knew that they were both cheating.

"I'm sorry, Mr Kramer," he said to me. "You have terminal cancer."

"How long?" I whispered, my veins and arteries tying into knots.

"A year, possibly a little longer. I can't make an exact estimation. I'm sorry, sir."

I couldn't stand it any more.

"Thank you, Doctor," I said as I got up and left.

My mind was made up. I had nothing left to live for. No child. No wife. No anything. By this time I was already in my car. I still had the key in my hand. My hand was shaking. Slowly, I closed my eye and leaned my head back. My breathing was uneven. Eventually I calmed down a fraction. Fat lot of good it did. Angrily, I shoved the key into the ignition and turned. The engine roared to life with such a fierce, snarling growl I thought of it as a bear; strong, powerful, deadly. I slammed my foot down onto the accelerator and headed off into the darkness that was my future.

The roads were surprisingly clear. The highway I was driving down was usually packed. Perhaps this was a sign that I wasn't supposed to be stopped in my plan. I felt the warm tear slip down my face before I could stop it.

The road was extremely dark. I could only see as far as my headlights stopped. But that was the point. I blinked once, my eyes widening as the road was lost from under my car. I hit the barrier blocking the hill drop and was sent spinning, flipping and crashing all the way to the bottom.

When I next opened my eyes, I was certain that I was dead. My suicide had worked. Hallelujah! But my arm and ankle hurt too much. Blood was dripping from the many cuts and gashes across my body. This couldn't be heaven. Hell, maybe, but never heaven. Then I realised I was still in my car. With all the strength that I could pull together, I dragged myself from the upturned vehicle. Above me I saw flashing lights, red and blue flashing across what would have been a perfect scene. I just stayed on my back, the near dead waiting for the vultures to finish me…

My life improved over the following weeks. The crash had taught me a lesson that Jill had been trying to teach me for years; cherish your life. I knew now that I was meant to have that empty road, those flashing lights, the feeling of nothingness. They weren't to kill me rather to teach me. I knew my purpose now. I would teach. Starting with the scum who had ruined my life.

I began to build. Once finished, I started searching for the "player". I found him.

Lurking in a darkened alleyway, I pulled the black hood of my cloak over the top of my mask; the head of a pig. I watched as the filth slinked past me. Getting a tight grasp on the syringe of chloroform, I lunge at the man. Piercing the struggling man's neck with the needle, I watched as he fell into an unconscious heap on the floor.

I waited in the shadows of warehouse I'd set the "game" up in. Cecil, the "player", came around a few minutes later. He started screaming, begging to the darkness. Cecil was tied onto a chair with spring-loaded knifes in front of his face.

"Hello Cecil," I said, slowly revealing myself. I kept my hood up, but let enough light highlight my tired face. That made Cecil struggle more; he recognised me from that night.

"Wh-what the? WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON, OLD MAN!" he screamed.

"I want to play a game," I said. "The rules are simple: in front of you is a set ten knives in columns. To release the ties on your wrists and feet, you must release the demons that cause you to do dreadful acts just to get your next fix. It's all in your head, Cecil." I sat down on the edge of a table and watched. Cecil seemed to understand my hint about his head. He started to lean forwards, pushing his face into the sides of the blades. He yelled in pain as the blades cut into his skin.

"You're sick, man! Just sick!" he cried. Eventually, he pushed his way out; the restraints on his wrists and ankles releasing the instant his was all the way out. I stood back up and walked over to him, staying a metre away.

"Well done, Cecil," I congratulated.

"What?"

"Do you finally understand?"

"Yes."

"What is this lesson?"

"That the sick need treating." With that he lunged at me. I anticipated his reaction, so stepped out of the way. I turned as he screamed. I had left a large bed of barbed wire a metre behind me. Cecil fell into the tangled web, cutting himself even deeper.

"Cherish your life," I suggested as I left the room and the screaming.

My "work" carried on for a while. I was soon being helped: Doctor Lawrence Gordon, Amanda Young, and Lieutenant Mark Hoffman. Only Lawrence has stayed undiscovered.

Amanda was murdered after shooting one "player's" wife. I revealed the test was for her all along, to see if she could control herself.

Soon after, Jeff (the husband) confronted me. I was weak. My life was near it's end and I was satisfied that my lesson would continue.

"Show forgiveness, Jeff," I croaked. Cancer of the throat was a pain. He looked at me. "I am sorry, Jeff. I truly am."

"I forgive you," he whispered. His wife sighed with relief. She was slumped against the opposite wall, bleeding from her wound. Around her neck was a device that if my heart rate dropped below 20 for longer than 10 seconds, the small shotguns pointed towards her head would trigger.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Suddenly, Jeff ran around to the other side of my bed and grabbed the ripsaw on the table, turned it on and plunged it into my neck. Lynn (his wife) screamed in fear.

"It's alright now, honey," Jeff soothed.

"JEFF!" she screamed. Jeff turned back to me.

"I truly, truly forgive you," he said. I was choking on my own blood, coughing and spluttering it everywhere. My shaking hand held out a tape recorder. I heard my own voice explaining everything from the tape, Jeff's yell of recognition, Lynn's scream, and the final sound of twelve shotguns firing before the darkness finally consumed me.

Death isn't the evil that needs to be feared, life is. I learnt that lesson and now hope that Mark and Lawrence continue to teach it. If my last year has taught me anything it is that the human mind is such a complicated thing. The emotions that struggle through it only lead to devastating results. If my life has taught anyone anything it should be cherish your life, as you never know what lessons you may learn…

**_A/N: I wrote this 2009, so some parts of the description maybe different than the recently released film. Spoiler possibly if you haven't watched the films. Bloody gory, I must say. But, I'm morbid that way that I like those films! This was for the creative writing section of my English classes in year 9, but I wanted to post it anyway! Thanks to "the mischevious pixie" for the review! I edited the name of the first "player" :)_**


End file.
